Newsletter - The Regency Ramble Quarterly Review

My newsletter goes out to your inbox from me and my good friend Michele Ann Young four times per year. With each issue, you get our news and for suffering through all that stuff, you also get a free story about the Prince of Wales and there is usually a contest.

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The Regency Rambler Quarterly Review This newsletter with updates on Ann Lethbridge and Michele Ann Young comes out no more than four times per year. [You are receiving this e-mail because you subscribed at The Regency Ramble Quarterly Review. If you are no longer interested, you can instantly unsubscribe.]

April 2009 Dear Readers, Spring at last here in the north, and today it is raining. Already the crocuses are peaking up through the soil, letting us know good weather is on the way. The winner of my newsletter sign up is: Sue Webb. Sue, please contact me with your address. To contact me, write to ann@annlethbridge.com To learn fragments of information about Regency England take a walk at my Regency Rambles Blog The blog has moved, so make sure you change your links. ~ The Rake's Inherited Courtesan A most scandalous bequest. By Ann Lethbridge Harlequin Historicals ISBN 978-0-373-29541-8 The Lady Flees Her Lord, by Michele Ann Young ISBN 978-1-4022-1399-1 Sourcebooks, Casablanca Available at fine bookstores, or purchase through my website from Amazon or your favorite on-line stores. News As you know if you received the last newsletter, I traveled to Australia this past February to attend the first Australian Romance Readers Conference, affectionately known as ARRC.I could not have asked for a warmer welcome from readers, writers and organizers. Thank you for our hospitality, one and all The big news for me this month is the release of the Rake’s Inherited Courtesan, my first Ann Lethbridge book.  I have actually seen it on the shelves! Last but not least, if you follow my Regency Ramble blog, or link to it, you will need to update your link to http://www.regencyramble.blogspot.com. The blog will move on May 1, and are currently mirror images. Almost. Appearances April 11: Ann will be giving a talk at my local RWA Chapter in Toronto on the craft of writing short stories   April 18: Annwill be signing at Zellers, in Whitby, Ontario. Check my website for details   May 28-June 9: Michele and Ann will be in England, Ireland and Wales   July 15 – 18: Ann will be at the RWA national conference in Washington DC. If you are there, please please come and say hello. I will be signing my books at the Literacy signing. Wow — Lots and lots going on. Don’t forget to pop by my websiteshttp://annlethbridge.com or http://www.micheleannyoung.com and  for the latest on upcoming books and news. If you belong to a group and would like me to speak, don't hesitate to get in touch. I have three workshops available and can tailor them to readers or writers. Don't forget that I chat on the Regency Ramble blog twice a week.

And now for Our Regular Feature The Inside Story. Each quarter we take an incident from the history books, turn it into a newspaper article, and then I write it through the eyes of our royal watcher Mary. As you can see, our Mary gets about a bit. But then she's a Londoner, so she has gumption. Dateline: Summer  1871 The London Times might have printed the following:  Last night HRH was involved in a disgraceful brawl in Vauxhall Gardens. This is the inside story as told to me by Mary: Mary handed him the fare, careful not to wobble the wherry. Moments later, she and Alice were walking up the wharf stairs and heading for the entrance to Vauxhall. Feverish with excitement at the rare treat, she handed her money over to the ticket agent in the booth at the gate and stepped into the magical world.   “You gotta watch out for the nobs,” Alice said, in a know-it-all voice. “Stay out of the Dark Walks,” she said in a significantly lowered voice. “Me brother said it’s the quickest way for a girl to get into trouble.” She tested the strings of her masque and pulled up the hood of her domino over her powdered hair. “Come on. The Rotunda is this way.”   She grabbed Mary’s arm and giggling they trotted along the Grand Walk. All around them lanterns twinkled in the trees and they brushed elbows with ladies and gentlemen in silk, ordinary folk like themselves in their Sunday best, and rough looking characters,  all heading in the same general direction. The scent of perfume and unwashed human hung heavy in the air. Off in the distance, the band was already playing merrily.   The Rotunda when they reached it was brightly lit and around the edge were the gaily decorated private boxes. Mary swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Isn’t that the Prince dancing over there.” Masked and dominoed, Mary knew his tall elegant figure the second she saw his smile as he laughed down at his partner.   “You and the Prince,” Alice muttered grabbing her arm. “Pip said he’d meet us over there.” She pointed to some tables far away from the orchestra.   “I say, ladies,” said a blond-haired dandy  in a white satin frock coat encrusted in embroidered peacocks. “Join me and my friend. All the champagne you can drink. Gin if you prefer.”   Alice’s eyes narrowed. “And supper?”   The dandy who looked a  little gormless  as Uncle Charlie would say, bowed. “Naturally.” He hooked his arm through Alice’s and led her around the room, passing several boxes with rakish young gentlemen and scantily clad women along the way.   Her heart beating a little fast, Mary followed in their wake. But instead of entering one of the boxes, the dandy took dived into one of the exits, out to the walks and the dark. “This way,” he said cheerily.   “I thought you said you had a box?” Mary said.   He waived his lace edged handkerchief. “Better than that, my dear. I have a private spot.”   The music was already fading into the distance behind them.  “I’m going back,” Mary said. “Come along, Alice.”   A man bumped into her from behind, caught her around her waste, the scent of his cologne seeming to surround her like a fog. Attar of Roses. Ugh.    “Now, now, sweet incognita,” her unexpected escort said in her ear. “We are looking forward to knowing you better. Isn’t that right, Bob?”   Ahead, Bob, the idiot, giggled. “Knowing, indeed. Biblical sense and all that.”   Mary stamped down on her newly acquired escorts instep. “Run, Alice,” she yelled.   It didn’t work. While the man hopped on one foot, he didn’t let go. Mary’s heart pounded against her ribs as if its escape could set her free.   “I say,” said a soft voice with a slight hesitation, “Not very sporting.”   The Prince. His mouth in a straight line, his attitude menacing. Mary’s mouth dropped open.   Clearly the two men didn’t recognize him, because the put up their fists.  “A mill,” someone shouted off behind them.   Without warning a flock of men surrounded them and it was fisticuffs and flying wigs in every direction.    Alice grabbed Mary’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before we gets hurt.”   Mary let her friend drag her away. The last view she had of the Prince, when she looked over her shoulder, was a fearsome blow to the face of the man who had grabbed  her from behind. Blood poured from the man’s nose. Served him right.   “We should stay and thank the Prince,” Mary said, hopefully   “Not likely,” Alice said. “The constables will be called and we will end up in gaol. I think the best thing for us is to go home.”   © Michele Ann Young Author’s Note: During this period the Prince of Wales engaged in the conduct of all the young men of his era including brawling at every opportunity. The history books record his shocking behaviour. In this story, I have given him a noble motive. But as you know, this is primarily fiction.   That is all from me until next time. Looking forward to bring you more adventures of our Prince, his life and his loves and his mistakes. 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